Chapter 34
Tristen
I’ve waited too long.
I should have fucking told him this morning, or fuck, even yesterday when I knew. Last week, even, when the schedule was posted.
But I didn’t. And now I’m shaky as we unload the bike I don’t actually have time to unload with the hope that a ride will keep him calm enough.
Will he be okay alone all night?
And day?
Then the next?
My fingers tingle as I hand over the helmet and watch him lift a leg over the cradle.
He pops the choke after turning it on and kicks out the starter.
“Don’t forget—” The bike clicks when he shifts into neutral, and he twists the grip. “Good boy, you got it.”
His gaze snaps to me and I feel a sweat start beneath my shirt.
A tiny smile tips up one side of his lips and suddenly I feel like I can breathe again.
It’s only a moment. A fraction in time that he studies me before he revs the bike and takes off.
This time … he doesn’t dump it or flood it and I’m cheering from the sidelines as he makes it all the way around the track. It’s at a turtle’s pace, and it earns him a few dirty looks from riders not wearing helmets but fuck them.
He’s doing it.
I’m pumping my fist in the air as he takes a second turn around, a little faster than the first, his sweet eyes finding me through the open visor just before he passes.
“Hell yeah, bubbles!” I yell out, even though I know he can’t hear me. “You got it, baby!”
“Yo, Ten, your queer is showing.”
Whipping around to the sound of a familiar voice, I ball my fists at the rider coasting up to me.
“Shut the fuck up, Ashton. No one asked you.”
He waves an inked hand all around the track as he circles me, then leans back in the cradle and runs it through his jet-black hair. “I didn’t have to. Entire track heard you, homo.”
I take a step closer. “Why don’t you come say that shit to my face.”
The man is undeterred as he dismounts his bike and dumps it, stepping up so close to me that his nose touches mine.
“Take him home and eat his ass. No one wants to see that here.”
Growling deep, I plant my hands on his chest plate and shove. He stumbles back a step only to propel forward and push me right back.
I swing, my knuckles connecting with his chin and splitting open all over again.
“Fuck you!” I yell and get my arm up just in time to block his hit. It still hurts like a mother fucker when the bones in his hand connects. “You judgmental piece of shit.”
He sneaks a punch past, those fucking bony knuckles busting something open just above my cheekbone. I don’t even feel the sting as I launch forward, wrapping him up in a hold that makes him shout back.
“Fight me like a real man, Ten!”
I tighten my hold. Arch my spine and toss us backward. Slam his ass right in the dirt.
Except he manages to snag me on the way down, pulling me right along with him.
We roll. Elbows fly and noses bleed.
But that doesn’t stop either of us from swinging wild, hoping to connect with something. He grunts when I manage to get a knee in his ribs and his hands wrap up in my hair.
He’s yanking the strands, making my scalp scream, when I hear the crash of bikes hitting dirt and my stomach turns.
I’m not sure how we end up back on our feet, but I end the fight with a knee to Ashton’s gut and turn away as he collapses back to the ground.
My heart is in my throat when I see Envy tipped over not too far from me, Emmett’s small frame standing over it as he watches me in complete horror.
No. Nonono.
I step in his direction only for my middle to be wrapped up and the wind knocked from my chest with the force of the blow that sends me back to the ground.
“Get the fuck off me, Ashton!” I grind out as I push at the arms banded around me, grabbing at the fingers locking tight.
“You don’t belong here,” he snarls in my ear, his breath hot. His weight bares down on me as he shifts to on top of me, his fist connecting with my jaw.
The hit makes my ears ring and my teeth pulse.
I turn my head and spit blood into the dirt.
“Ashton, stop,” I grit out and deflect a punch.
“Fuck you!”
My arms go up to block my face when he wails on me again, his swings frantic, his shouts cracking.
Arching my hips, I force him over my head and scramble over his lanky frame to pin him with his arms across his pumping chest.
“Stop.”
“You like this, don’t you, you fucking freak? Bet you want all the guys under you. Or is it you that takes the cock? He’s small, bet he’s got a small dick.”
He sucks back a breath when I shove him harder into the ground and does the last fucking thing he should.
He spits in my face.
My blood goes hot, and I drop an elbow right on his jaw with more weight than I intend. His eyes roll back, and his body goes lax beneath me.
“Fuck!”
I lean back, and with a bloodied hand, I check his pulse out of habit.
Knocked out.
Little goddamn prick.
Rolling away, I flop in the dirt and fish out my phone. It rings near my head, my best friend’s voice filling the tiny speaker only after two beeps.
“Ten.”
“Come get Ashton. I knocked him out.”
“What—”
I hang up before he can ask me to repeat the shit that started this mess. I know damn well my best friend wouldn’t be fan and Ashton needs someone trained that ain’t fucking me.
I took an oath to do no harm, but his ass is staying in the fucking dirt.
The push to get to my side is a bitch, getting to my hands and knees even more so.
Quiet.
It takes almost all the energy I have left just to get back on my haunches and look up rather than lay in the dirt next to Ashton and pass the fuck out.
But Emmett.
My head spins as I search for him, the light seemingly brighter than normal, my vision blurring the lines between track and not.
Fuck, there’s blood in my eye.
I use the end of my shirt to wipe it away and when I let the material fall away, it’s covered in red.
“Fuck.”
Looking around, I stiffen when I finally orient myself enough to find Emmett still standing next to the bike with his covered fist balled in front of his mouth.
The helmet is gone and there’s lines tracking through the dirt coating his face.
“Bubbles,” I mutter and groan through the sharp pain in my ribs when I stand up. It makes my head throb and the world tilt.
Quiet.
I force a breath that’s just short of deep when my ribs protest the action and wrap an arm around them. Each step is like a knife between them, separating muscle from bone, leaving just enough pain filled space between to fill with him.
“Bubs,” I croak out as I get closer.
He’s not looking at me, but instead at the approach of my feet. With each inch that I gain, each breath closer, feels like a mile wedging between us.
His shoulders are shaking.
Those tracks down his face like a crater digging deep in my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I rasp to the top of his blond head. “I’m sorry you saw that.”
He sniffs and whispers, “You shouldn’t hurt people that don’t deserve it.”
“He did.” I dip so I can see his eyes, so that he can see the sincerity in mine. “He fucked around and found out, Em. That’s all.”
“You pushed him first. I saw it.”
There’s a wobble to his lip behind that fist of his and my chest aches for a whole different reason.
“I did,” I agree and nod. “But he ran his mouth first.”
“What n-n-now?”
“I called Hatley. He’s gonna come check him out.”
Shining honey eyes find mine and I have to swallow back the lump that lodges in my throat. “What about you?”
My stomach twists and I hold my middle tighter, though a small smile plays at my lips.
“Work.”